


Sole to Sole

by verybadhedgehog



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Foot Fetish, Foot Fucking, Foot Jobs, Foot Massage, M/M, PWP, toe sucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 08:51:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8617621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verybadhedgehog/pseuds/verybadhedgehog
Summary: Kylo washes Hux's feet after a long day of command duty and meetings. One thing (massage) leads to another (toe-sucking) and eventually (foot fucking).





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is in the spirit of "No Shame November" in which highly self-indulgent works are posted.  
> Inspired by the posting of some [foot kink headcanons](https://gentleman-caller.tumblr.com/post/153285508779/kylux-foot-kink-headcanons-huxs-feet-are) by [oorsprong](http://archiveofourown.org/users/oorsprong/pseuds/oorsprong)

“My feet are cold”

“Mine are warm. Here.”

And that, really, was how it had started. He’d tucked his feet around the General’s feet, and the General had said “mm, that’s nice,” and he’d rubbed the arch of his own foot over the General’s cold toes, and held him a little closer.

Hux’s feet fit perfectly between his own, and that pleased him. They were, like everything about Hux, narrow and elegant.

 

***

 

So. Hux had agreed to receive Kylo in his quarters a short while after his shift ended.

“You look tired,” he said. The General had had a long day, and he needed to relax.

“Of course I look tired. I _am_ tired. Two regular shifts plus an onward coordination plan with Phasma and our principal instructors, plus a quick check-in with Starfighter Command.”

“You were on your feet for most of that.”

“All except the OCP. We took turns at the view board. Got about forty minutes of sit-down, there.” Hux sat in his chair and sighed with relief. “Ah. That makes for a pleasant change.” He removed his gloves, neatly and meticulously as always, but Kylo could pick up a slight note of anticipation in his actions.

“I could tend to your tired feet. Would you permit me?”

“Of course.”

Kylo knelt before him, and glanced up at fondness and anticipation and the tiniest hint of a smile. 

He clasped a boot, hugging it against his body, and worked it off, placing it neatly and deliberately on the floor. He ran a hand down the back of the General’s calf, over his ribbed woolen sock, and briefly caressed his sharp ankle bone with a thumb, before turning his attention to the other leg and removing its boot.

“Hot water,” he said. “Hot water would do you good. Would you have me wash your feet, General?”

“It would be most welcome, Ren,” Hux said, and a little hunger crept into his expression. 

Kylo stood and took his own boots off before proceeding through Hux’s bedchamber into his small private refresher cabin. That was a rule and a routine in which he had been instructed very early on in their liaison. Hux liked protocol, and he liked formality and ritual. On early acquaintance, this appeared to make him dull. Hidebound. Petty. But on closer inspection, a curious and observant person, particularly one with Kylo’s keenly attuned gifts, would learn that Hux was reassured and comforted by a firm protocol on which he could rely, and that he was capable of drawing great enjoyment from ritual. This last, Kylo could very much appreciate.

In the fresher, he opened a locker and pulled out a plastic basin and jug. Hux had requisitioned the basin for some spurious reason, although if he had actually noted down “for Kylo Ren to wash my feet in private,” in the “reason for request” space on the form there probably wouldn’t have been many questions asked. He himself had simply brazenly stolen the jug from the senior officers’ mess, and there were no questions asked at all, at least, not openly. He gathered that a rumour of grotesque blood-letting had taken hold among the more loose-minded of the naval officers and spread as far as some of the Stormtroopers, and since this did his legend no harm, he allowed it. 

He loosened his sleeves and folded them back to bare half of each forearm, before drawing hot water into both the jug and the basin. First, the basin was carried through and placed before the General’s feet. Then came a cake of soap, a washcloth, a small scrubbing brush and two towels draped on his arm and everything balanced with a little concentration of the Force, and the jug in the other hand.

He knelt again. It was an honour, beautiful and serene, to kneel in this particular way. Ritual that brought honour was to Kylo's mind, the finest ritual of all. How blessed he was to have found, in this peculiar rival of his, not only a proud and willing lover but someone with whom he could enjoy these particular rituals of the body. 

Hands below Hux’s left knee, fingers almost laced behind it, he unbuttoned the cuff of his breeches and hooked his thumbs into the top of his sock. Slowly, he drew the sock down over the slender, wiry calf, uncovering golden hair that glinted in the light of the desk lamp. He took care as he slipped the heel of the General’s sock down and away from its proper place, and finally he took hold of the toe of the sock and pulled it gently away with measured pace, neither too quickly nor too slowly.

He kissed, gently, the top of the foot.

“Ren,” Hux admonished him. 

He knew he had been taking a chance. The skin of Hux’s foot was just soft-moist with the day’s sweat, and a few strands of wool lint adhered to it. The General, unsurprisingly, did not approve of touching or kissing in this state: with previous partners he’d apparently always considered the feet unclean and undesirable and off limits, full stop. Kylo was extremely well-favoured to be permitted this intimacy, and he knew it. He repeated all his actions in removing Hux’s right sock, performing each correctly and reverently, and feeling satisfaction in what was done and anticipation of what was to come flow gently over him from Hux’s mind.

He lifted both of Hux’s feet and moved the basin of hot water beneath them, lowering them down into the water. “Your foot bath,” he murmured. He considered adding a “sir,” but knew that Hux would get the wrong idea from that. He knew what this was, and it wasn’t that.

Damp with warm water, the washcloth sponged away those strands and smudges of sock lint from Hux’s legs and feet. Now wrung out and rubbed with soap, it rubbed and washed at each foot in turn. Each foot was lifted from the water and held up with one hand and carefully and thoughtfully washed, the pad of the washcloth rubbing hard on the ball of the foot and on its arch. Kylo took in Hux’s sighs of relaxation, absorbed them, and let them warm and wash over him. 

He looped the washcloth over his index finger, and drew it through the the gap between each long toe. With each pass, he felt a vibration of pleasure passing through Hux’s body and through the Force that surrounded him. Back into the water to rinse away the soap suds and to massage around the ankles while the water was still warm. And now a scrubbing with the scrubbing brush. He worked at the tougher parts of Hux’s feet first, the outer edge of the big toe, the ball of the foot, and the heel. Then he scrubbed firmly, but not roughly, at the arch of Hux’s foot, where he knew the nerves and muscles were aligned in a particular and pleasing way, and attuned himself to Hux’s pleasure. He heard, and felt, breath that deepened; he heard quiet sighs and short hums; and he felt again that rising vibration in the Force. He fed off it, felt it amplify inside him, felt his blood warm him. 

Finally, after another dip and swish in the basin, he poured clean water from the jug over each foot to rinse it entirely clean. The basin was placed to one side, and replaced with a folded towel.

“Very nice,” Hux said, softly, as Kylo patted each foot dry with the other towel. He kissed a warm pink ankle, and there was no complaint this time. He seated Hux’s feet on the folded towel, and covered them with the towel used to dry them, to keep them warm and tender and safe while he fetched a tub of foot cream.

He uncovered a foot from its towel nest, still warm, and lifted it up again to adore it and to lavish it with the foot cream. They needed to be moisturised and softened and tended to and made to feel so soft and nice. And afterwards, he would kiss them. How he would kiss them and cherish them, his secret darlings.

He rubbed the sweet-nut scented buttery cream into the heel, and marvelled again at how lovely the foot, elegant and petal-pink, looked resting on the palm of his hand. So lovely and tender, and there to be loved and touched, for him to adore. He gave one brief kiss just below the ankle, as a promise for later, and as a punctuation in the flow of his actions.

From the heel, he moved to the rest of the sole, reaching the arch, flexing and pressing his thumbs over it, pushing in and making circles, listening for and sensing Hux’s reactions. 

He bit his lip and squirmed a little at the pressure of his swelling cock in his pants. His breath caught in his throat. He knew Hux _knew_ , obviously, but it still had the hot and delightful sense of the forbidden and the secret and the strange. This was the wonderful mystery of the ritual, the thing he could not describe in words, the thing that drew him back again and again, to feel the Force heat up and flow through him, through the peculiar channels it itself had made.

His work was not done. He dabbed cream onto each individual toe and rubbed it in, massaging each tenderly with the pad of his thumb. He stroked the length of the foot all the way back to the delicate ankle bones, and placed it back on the folded towel, covering it again, picking up the other foot for it to have its turn with the rich buttery cream. 

Once moisturised he massaged the foot in long strokes with both hands almost losing himself in the softness of the skin, adoring the golden-orange hair across the top of it and the neatness and perfect form of each little toenail. 

Then he reached the foot up towards him, and lowered his head down towards it. He glanced up to meet Hux’s eyes, and the wicked hint to Hux's smile told him he should proceed. Maintaining eye contact, at least for the first seconds, he took Hux’s toes into his mouth. He started with the smallest toes, the smallest morsels; sucking them delicately, enveloping them with his lips. His tongue ran over the crevice dividing the pads of the toes from the pad of the foot, and thus he suck-kissed his way to the big toe, which he took whole and complete into his mouth. He cupped his tongue under the pad of it, and gently worried his top teeth over it, tuning in again to the sounds and the feeling of Hux’s pleasure. Under the pleasure was – _and did he know that Kylo would easily perceive it or was he unwittingly broadcasting it on an open channel_ – a hint of shame. Shame that had been heated and transmuted and turned into something delicious. Just as his own had been.

He pulled off. 

“You like that.”

“I do. I do. I don’t know why it feels so damn good.”

That was enough. He lengthened and pointed his tongue and slid it between the big toe and the second toe, probing into the narrow sensitive crevice end feeling Hux’s little shivers echo back at him. From there, the next crevice, just as he had done with the washcloth when washing these delicate lovely rosebud toes. And the next: teasing and probing and wiggling his tongue; feeling rising vibrations of arousal and pleasure, and then hearing a little noise that couldn’t be suppressed, a little soft whimper.

“I like that you let me do this,” he said, before kissing more, open mouthed and wet, over the top of the General’s foot and back onto his big toe. “Tell me I should suck it again,” he said, teasing, running the back of his fingernails up Hux’s calf and making him shiver.

“I shan’t stop you.”

“No,” he said. “ _Tell_ me.”

Hux’s breath rose and fell in his chest, and Kylo felt the heat of rising arousal radiated back at him. The heat of the forbidden and the secret and the strange.

“Please,” Hux breathed. “Suck it again. I want you to.”

He sucked it. Hard, working his tongue against it, making soft moans against it, breathing harder and faster through his nose and feeling his cock throb, heavy and full.

Hux, for his part, gripped tight to the arm rests of his chair. He whined, and he cursed.

Kylo slipped his mouth from Hux’s toe, and looked up at him, along the length of his lower leg, shivering with want. He sat back then, on his own heels, and breathed, considering how best to continue and if it was time yet to tend to the hot, throbbing ache in him. He could not resist any longer. He shuffled a tiny bit closer, and pulled his tunic to the side. He felt his cheeks flush redder as he pulled Hux’s right foot closer to him. 

Hux flexed his foot, accentuating the arch, and Kylo bit his lip on a moan. He panted with anticipation in the last moment of inevitability before he pressed the arch of Hux’s foot against the bulge of his erection.

“Oh!”  He bit his lip harder and rubbed himself over the tender, sensitive sole. “It’s so good.”

The General’s face, too, was flushed and open, and his eyes bright. He flexed his foot again over Ren’s cock. “How hard you are, you wicked creature,” he said. “It’s really rather nice.”

“You like what you do to me?”

“Of course I do.”

“I want to… you know what I want, don’t you?”

“You could show me, but I think I can picture it on my own.”

Kylo whimpered again as he frotted himself up against his General’s foot. He didn’t want to finish like this, not yet, but it was so tempting.

“Get up,” Hux said, suddenly. There was a wicked, hungry, self-congratulating glint in his eye. “Get up. I need to be sitting on a bed for this.” 

He let go of Hux, and he got up. He felt his jaw hanging slightly, stupidly open as he stood, like an attendant, a gentleman in waiting, a Knight, while the General rose from his chair and padded swiftly on his toes into his bedchamber.

 _I could have picked you up and carried you, so your precious feet would never have had to touch the cold tiles at all_ , he thought, following Hux into the bedroom.

Hux divested himself quickly of his breeches, unfastened his jacket, peeled it off and hung both up. His cock was visibly tenting his undershorts, Kylo noticed with no small thrill. He sat on the bed, legs out in front of him; pink on his face, pink peeking from the collar of his undershirt, pink on his thighs, pink tongue darting out to moisten his pink lips. His aura in the Force hummed and buzzed with arousal and anticipation. 

Proud as a little king, the General pulled up his knees and drew his feet together. They were placed sole to sole, his ankles bent and his knees pointing outwards. The gap between the arches was so so very inviting. 

 _Beautiful_ , Kylo thought. It was there, for him. All for him. _Made_ for him.

“Well then,” Hux said.

Kylo dipped two fingers into the gap and stroked them along its rim. “In there,” he said. “In there.”

“Yes.”

“I could fuck you. In there.”

“Yes.” Hux licked his lips again. “You could.”

Kylo dipped three fingers now into the gap, and probed, slipping them in and out and pressing on the walls formed by the arches. The gap was shaped, he thought, somewhat like that part of a female body, and he wondered if a straighter man than he would have more of a reaction to that, specifically. For him, though, it was simply Hux’s feet. What they were, who they belonged to, and what that singular, elegant, proud man was going to let him do to them. What he _wanted_ him to do to them.

He undid the fastening of his trousers, considered how he would position himself over the place where he needed to be, and pulled them off, making half an attempt to fold them before dropping them on the floor. He dropped his undershorts and knelt, naked from the waist down, on the bed, facing Hux and breathing hot and heavy.

He leant in and held himself up on one arm, legs splayed, guiding his cock to Hux’s feet with the other hand.

“Go on then,” Hux said, all pink and wanting, eyes glittering.

The arches of Hux’s feet were dry, but soft, and the tip of Kylo’s cock was already wet. He did not even try to hold back a noise as he slid in to the secret sacred place between the soles. Hux squeezed his feet together around the shaft, and Kylo’s breath caught almost in a sob.

“Fuck. Hux. Feels so good. So good.”

He bent his head down to look, bracing himself and pushing against the soles of Hux’s feet. Perfect and soft and tender and fuckable, they were.

Hux, too, dipped his head to watch. “Kriffing hell, that looks good. So dirty.” He rolled and squeezed his feet over the shaft of Ren’s cock, tighter, this time. “Just look at you, you filthy, wicked creature, you.”

Ren groaned and panted and bit at his breath. His hair was damp at his neck. “Fuck. Fuck, it’s so much. Does it feel good to you?”

“It does. You feel rather good just there. I like it.”

“Hells. Hux. That makes you as bad as I am,” he said, panting. “What do you call me? Filthy. Wicked. Dirty.”

“Mm. Suppose it does.” Hux brought his hand to his own cock and squeezed lightly. “The state you’re in, though. Quite something.”

Kylo moaned and panted more, unable to sense much more than how incredibly good it felt between Hux’s feet, how an electric pleasure spread like burning lightning between his thighs and over his ass and up his back, how the Force itself was like molten metal in him.  

This was something too sublime for Hux to understand. Or rather, too sublime for him to understand consciously and rationally: for as was apparent from the ragged pattern of his breathing and his quiet half-suppressed yelps and the pink flush all over him and his bitten lip and gathered brow and the rhythm of his hand on himself; Hux understood in his body and his inner self quite well.

It was exceptional. Though he could have leant forward to bite and kiss at Hux, he did not. The point of contact he had was the point of contact he needed. At this moment, all he needed.

He let himself be guided by the heat of his own pleasure and the flowing fire of the Force, cascading through well worn channels, carving out new ones, telling him what he was and sharpening his sensation to where it could no longer hold.

He cried out, roughly, like an animal as he spurted hot and thick over the tender lovely darling feet, and caught his breath back to him.

“Ren,” Hux said. “Ren,” softly and fondly and with a kiss on his hot sweaty cheek. “That washcloth is still there, isn’t it. Because you’ll need to clean me up all over again now.”

“I will. I will. Thank you. It was… quite something.”

Hux did not suppress a small laugh.

“You didn’t finish,” Kylo said. “Do you need me to…” 

“Mop it up before it goes cold. Then you can do something with that mouth of yours.”

He stood to fetch the bowl and cloth. He’d probably need fresh hot water.

“I felt it, you know,” Hux said, with a teasing half-smile. “Not unpleasant, as a sensation. Not at all.”

Kylo was indeed blessed.


End file.
